Chapter 137: Jake
Charlie notices the shift first. Her gaze flicks from Finn to Reid, then to me. “What’s going on?” she asks carefully, like she already knows the answer.
Finn swallows hard, sets his drink down. His fingers shake. “Look, man—” he starts, voice weak.
Reid tilts his head, that dangerous calm of his slipping into place. “You should stop right there,” he says quietly.
The whole bar seems to hush, even the music fading into the background.
Finn opens his mouth again, then closes it, face paling even more.
And I can’t help but think—good. He should be scared. Because Reid looks one step away from breaking him in two, and honestly, I’m not sure I’d stop him if he did.
Not after what he did to her.
Reid’s voice cuts clean through the noise.
“Let’s talk outside, shall we?”
It’s calm—too calm. The kind of calm that means someone’s about to bleed.
Finn looks up, eyes wide, his face a shade of pale that’s almost gray. He swallows hard, the bottle in his hand trembling before he sets it down. “Reid, man, I—”
“Outside,” Reid repeats, tilting his head toward the door. Then, louder, “The whole team.”
That part makes everyone freeze. Liam glances at Charlie, who’s mid-sip of something bright red and nearly chokes on it. Sloane raises an eyebrow but gets up, looking curious more than anything. No one argues. They follow. Because when Reid says move, you move.
Outside, the night air hits like ice, the hum of the bar muffled behind us. The four of them stand in a half-circle under the dim yellow glow of the Seafoam’s back light. Reid and I take our spots against the brick wall, shoulder to shoulder.
“Care to fill us in on what happened?” Reid asks, arms crossed, voice quiet. Too quiet.
Finn stammers, rubbing the back of his neck. “I—I think it was a misunderstanding, I was drunk, and I—”
Reid cuts in, still calm. “Because when I got there,” he says slowly, “it looked a hell of a lot like you forced a kiss on Madeline.”
The air turns heavy. Then—
“Are you fucking serious?!” Sloane’s voice explodes through the alley. “She’s been planning this! She’s been flirting with him for weeks!”
Reid turns his head toward her.
One look.
Just one.
But it’s enough to silence her instantly.
It’s the kind of look I’ve seen only a few times in my life—controlled fury, sharp and dangerous. A look that means don’t test me.
“I’ll deal with you after,” he says simply.
Sloane opens her mouth, then shuts it again. Smart.
Charlie and Liam look like they’d rather be anywhere else. Finn’s eyes are darting around, searching for an exit that doesn’t exist.
“I misread things,” Finn says quickly, voice shaking. “I swear I didn’t mean—I just—she was there and I—”
I lift a hand, palm out, cutting him off. “Stop.”
He freezes.
I take a breath, forcing down the part of me that wants to slam him into the wall. “Let’s make this simple,” I say, my voice level. “We don’t care who you kiss, or flirt with, or fuck. We’re not here to babysit anyone’s personal life. We all live together, work together—lines are bound to blur sometimes.”
Finn nods quickly, too eager.
“But,” I continue, “what we won’t accept is anything that happens without consent.”
Finn opens his mouth, and I snap my hand up again. “Did she give you the okay to kiss her?”
He hesitates, then shakes his head. “No, but—”
“Did she say yes?” I push. “Did she ask you to do it?”
His voice breaks a little. “No.”
“Then there’s no but,” I say flatly. “That’s the end of the conversation.”
He drops his gaze.
“This wouldn’t have been a big deal,” I go on, “if she’d wanted it. But she didn’t. It took her by surprise. And needless to say, she doesn’t feel great about it.”
It’s a lie—of course it’s a big deal. For both Reid and me. But this isn’t about us right now.
I look at the rest of them, one by one. “Do we need more of a lecture on consent, or is it clear?”
Liam and Charlie both shake their heads. “Clear,” Charlie says quietly.
Reid hasn’t moved, hasn’t blinked.
Then, out of nowhere, Charlie slaps Finn in the arm. “You idiot! You didn’t tell me she didn’t want to?”
Finn looks like he’s about to vomit right there on the pavement. His hands are shaking, his mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air.
Reid and I exchange a look—one that says this isn’t over. Not by a long shot.
Because that was the last line Finn was ever going to cross.
Charlie’s voice breaks the silence first, soft but worried. “Is she okay? Where is she?”
I nod. “She’s home,” I say. “We made sure she got in safe.”
Reid finally speaks, his tone level but still edged with something dark. “Madeline’s not making as big a deal out of this as we are. She’s fine. Shaken, confused, but fine.” His eyes cut to Sloane then—sharp, deliberate. “More upset about the violence she thought was coming her way than about Finn.”
Sloane shifts, arms crossed, the anger still there but dulled under the weight of his stare.
Finn exhales, shoulders sagging slightly, some tension bleeding out of him—but not all.
Reid continues, voice steady but dangerous beneath. “She’s not the one who has a problem with this. We are. Because we don’t mess with anything that’s not mutual. Ever. You cross that line, you don’t belong on our team. Period.”
Finn nods fast, almost desperate. “I get it. I’ll—I’ll talk to her. I’ll apologize. I swear.”
“Good,” I say quietly. “I trust you’ll do that. And that you won’t make things worse.”
He nods again, eyes glued to the ground.
Then Charlie, still fuming, smacks him on the arm again. “You’re such an dumbass,” she hisses.
Finn looks like he might cry now.
Charlie turns to us next, voice softening. “Can I go home? Check on her?”
Reid and I share a look, then both nod. “Yeah,” I say. “She’ll like that.”
Charlie doesn’t wait another second. She grabs her jacket off the railing and starts walking fast toward Madeline’s place, muttering under her breath about stupid boys and worse timing.
When she disappears around the corner, the alley falls quiet again—just the low hum of the bar behind us and the sea in the distance.